


hold on my heart

by missymeggins



Category: Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries
Genre: F/M, no context conversations about feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-22
Updated: 2020-04-22
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:54:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,538
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23786668
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/missymeggins/pseuds/missymeggins
Summary: “Tell me when you wanted me,” she murmurs quietly into his back, forehead pressed  against his warm skin, late one night as he’s drifting off to sleep.
Relationships: Phryne Fisher/Jack Robinson
Comments: 26
Kudos: 125





	hold on my heart

**Author's Note:**

> look i really have no idea what this is. it's just a lot of feelings really. and 90% dialogue. entirely without context. but my brain just really wanted to follow through on the line "when did you want me?" so this happened *shrug emoji*

“Tell me when you wanted me,” she murmurs quietly into his back, forehead pressed against his warm skin, late one night as he’s drifting off to sleep.

“What?” he asks surprised by the unexpected question.

“When did you want me Jack?” she repeats, and her voice is quiet and curious, with a vulnerability he hears from her so rarely but recognises all the same. He’s not sure what’s stirred it in her it this particular evening but he is, as he always has been, completely powerless against it. 

Her arm is slung loosely over his chest and he pulls her hand to his lips, kissing her knuckles as he replies honestly, “I wanted you so many times Phryne. I lost count.” 

“Tell me,” she insists.

He hesitates at the first memory that comes to mind, unsure if sharing it with her will just dredge up painful memories she’d rather not revisit. Still, they’ve worked hard to cultivate honesty between and he’s not sure what it is exactly that she’s seeking from this conversation but it’s something almost raw and needy and he finds he can’t give her anything less than honesty, sincerity, and his own vulnerability. 

“When you reached for my hand after we found Janey,” he tells her quietly. He feels the sharp intake of her breath but she doesn’t speak so he continues. “You were gripping my hand so tightly I half thought you’d break my fingers and when you cried I wanted so badly to pull you into my arms and hold you but I didn't know if you would want that. I was afraid of overstepping. And afraid I suppose of what that feeling meant for me. But in that moment I wanted nothing more than to be the source of your comfort, to be able to take your pain away.”

“Nothing could have done that Jack,” she whispers honestly. “But I was so glad you were there.” 

“I couldn't have been anywhere else,” he tells her, wondering if she can hear in those words how deeply he loves her. 

“When else did you want me,” she persists, dragging her lips across his shoulder blades now. 

He sighs at the feel of her, ever surprised by how intoxicated it makes him feel to be touched by her, even now when it’s so far from new. 

“The House of Flueri,” he answers without thought. “That dress.”

“You called it lethal,” she remembers, smiling even though he can’t see it. 

“Oh, it was Phryne. So much skin, so many places I wanted to touch,” he murmurs. 

She laughs, surprised. “You’d seen far more of me at that point, Jack! Or have you forgotten my foray into fan dancing.” 

“I promise you that is something I will never forget,” he laughs in return. “But I was far from the only person to see you that night. And there was something about that being a public show that made it feel quite different. I could pretend I wasn’t supposed to see and that made it easier not to think about. But you in that dress, walking up the stairs to your bedroom, offering me a nightcap - that made me imagine what it might be like to be alone with you. All that beading, it was like an invitation to touch all the skin it framed.”

“I still have it you know,” she says and he can literally hear the smirk in her voice. 

“But I already have an invitation to touch you, do I not?” he asks releasing her hand and turning to face her now.

She just barely nods as she smiles at him - it doesn’t need to be said - and his fingers find her collarbone, the way they have so many other times, skating along her skin so lightly she almost can’t feel it. 

“If I had stayed that night, for a nightcap as you’d suggested, I don’t think I could have stopped myself,” he says thoughtfully. 

“Would that have been so bad?” she asks curiously. 

“Not bad, no, but too soon I think,” he counters seriously. “I wasn’t ready for you.”

She looks back at him, reaching out to brush the hair at his temple, quiet and thoughtful. It reminds him of another night with her eyes on his, soft and unguarded and uncertain and so he tells her. 

“The night I came to you, after looking after Rosie - I wanted you so badly. I sat in my car outside Wardlow for nearly ten minutes debating with myself before I knocked.” 

“Why the debate?” she queries. 

“Because I knew if you answered the door I wasn’t going to hold back anymore. And it terrified me,” he answers seriously.

“What were you scared of Jack?” 

“How completely in love with you I was,” he tells her. “I knew after Gertie Haynes of course. But I thought I could put it aside for you, so we could continue working together. So you never had to give up any part of yourself for me.”

She pulls him in, kissing him slowly. They don’t often talk about that night - despite the eventual outcome of their relationship, that moment still holds pain for them both. But when it does come up she’s quick to soothe the wounds the best way she knows how - by loving him physically, deliberately. 

He kisses her back tenderly, lingering on her lips with his fingers curled around her neck to anchor her there. When she opens her eyes he loosens his grip on her and continues. 

“But that night after The Pandaris you said that Rosie had needed me. And you were right, she had. But the thing was - I know I hadn’t lost nearly as much as Rosie had, but I had respected George Sanderson and there was a moment on that ship where I thought I might lose you. So when Rosie was safe with her sister and I finally felt the weight of that case and everything that had happened… I needed you that night Phryne. With you was the only place I wanted to be and if Mrs Stanley hadn’t interrupted us I would have kissed you and I would have let you take me to bed, consequences be damned. I had never wanted you as much as I did that night.”

“Aunt P and her wretched timing!” she mutters, rolling her eyes.

“But I fear would have regretted it,” he says seriously.

She looks almost hurt when she asks, “Why?”

“Because I needed us to be on equal footing for this to happen. I needed to know that you wanted more than one gaudy night.” 

“Silly Jack, you should have known - I want all the gaudy nights,” she whispers into his mouth as she presses herself close to him. 

He groans as he trails his fingers down her back. “And you shall have them all Miss Fisher,” he murmurs as he leans in to kiss her, only to be interrupted by her voice. 

“You’re not going to ask me when I wanted you?” she muses, eyebrow raised.

“All I really care about is that you want me now,” he answers with a playful shrug despite which she knows he means more than just in this exact moment. 

“Can I tell you anyway?” she asks and there is nothing he could ever deny her when she looks at him with such openness in her eyes. 

“Yes,” he answers her, bringing his fingers to the hair falling across her face as he tucks it behind her ear so he can see her properly. 

“There were lots of times of course,” she starts thoughtfully. “At the football with your scarf around my neck, when you turned down a nightcap over the lethality of my dress, when I couldn’t keep your attention over a game of checkers. Every time you declared it was time to leave for the night and all I could think about was how fun it would be if you stayed. But I didn’t understand then how different wanting you could be. That I could want you in a way that was entirely new to me.”

“Different how?” he asks, curious.

“Do you remember the case at the radio station? That night, after everyone else had gone home and there you were, alone at my piano.”

“I seem to recall you calling me Archie. Are you sure this is a story about wanting me?” he teases. 

“Quite sure,” she says seriously. “There was something about how at home you felt here, enough to leave me alone with the rest of my guests and come play my piano. I watched you for a moment - truth be told I wanted to keep watching you but I didn’t think it would be fair not to announce my presence. Still, for that brief moment, I imagined what it would be like to have moments like that with you every night. To see you completely unguarded. To see you at home here. That was a new kind of wanting for me,” she says with such sincerity it makes his heart ache.

She closes her eyes for a moment as she continues. “But that night after The Pandaris when I left you at the station with Rosie - god I hated how that felt Jack. I was jealous and ashamed of that jealousy because Rosie had every right to need you and her need far outweighed my wanting. But the truth is I was afraid it might mean losing you. I had never been afraid of losing a man before. And you weren’t even mine to lose.” 

“Yes I was,” he whispers into her neck. “Though I assure you, you were never in any danger of losing me.”

She smiles and clings to him a little tighter, hands roaming the planes of his back slowly until he pulls back, resting his weight on one elbow so he can look at her properly. 

“What prompted this contemplation of yours?” he asks gently, sure that there is something deeper beneath this examination of their history.

She hesitates - something he sees so rarely from her - and then answers slowly and carefully. “I suppose I realised something recently that took me by surprise.”

“I didn’t think anything could surprise you,” he teases affectionately. 

Her laughter is soft as she replies, “Well you always manage to surprise me. And I had the thought the other day that I can’t imagine there will ever come a time that I don’t want you. I think there was a part of me that was afraid there would because there always had been before. And it wasn’t callousness, no matter what people might think. It has never been that I didn’t care for the lovers I had. I just didn’t need them to be permanent and when I no longer felt the same desire for them that I had in the beginning, or I found someone else I desired more, I was content to move on. But now I find that I don't want anyone else. Just you Jack Robinson - and that scares me more than I’d like to admit.” 

“Why?” he asks gently, inviting her to be completely honest with him.

“Because if I’m not the one who stops wanting then that just leaves you,” she answers quietly, without breaking his gaze. 

“Never,” he tells her, as though that single word is enough. For him it is; an absolute truth he has no cause to doubt. 

And she would like it to be too but there are loose threads of doubt unravelling inside her and she is compelled to keep pulling at them until there’s nothing left. 

“But you’ve never been like any of the others, Jack. You were far too immune to my charms. You resisted this. And you walked away from us once, you could easily do it again.” 

He laughs instinctively because she has no idea how utterly absurd that statement is and she shoots him a look of offence as if to say, ‘how dare you laugh at my vulnerability’ but he pushes on, quietly determined to put her doubts to rest. 

“I was far from immune to your charms Phryne. I would have thought this conversation quite proves that. And it’s true I did walk away once but you’re incorrect in thinking I resisted this. _This_ is the opposite of what I resisted. I resisted the singular gaudy night, the impulsive desire-driven nightcaps that might have led only to your bed - but not this. Not crawling into bed beside you at an ungodly hour because you insist you’d rather I come in late when I’m working a case than not at all. Not drawing you a bath and reading to you because you say you like the sound of my voice. Not dining with the whole unruly family you’ve somehow gathered for yourself and allowed me to be a part of.”

He raises her hand to his lips once more, watching her closely. She doesn’t speak yet and he understands she needs more, needs him to put that one last, deepest fear, to rest. 

“I walked away once because I didn’t know how to live with the absolute terror of loving you. But you didn’t let me stay away. And then I did live with the absolute agony that was losing you and I discovered that loving you wasn’t nearly so terrifying after all and never would be so long as you were alive and in the world creating joy and chaos everywhere you went. So I took a risk and chose you. I chose this - us. Because I _want_ you Phryne. Not just in your bed, not for just one gaudy night, but sitting on my desk at the station, next to me at your piano, waltzing in your parlour with no music, in my thoughts whenever you’re not by my side. That’s how I want you _now_ , every day, Phryne and it isn’t going to change.” 

She sighs. “You can’t know that Jack. People change all the time, in ways they never thought they could. I’m proof of that.”

“And do you wish to change back?” he counters. “There’s nothing stopping _you_ from walking away, returning to your former freedom.”

She shakes her head, “No I don’t want to change back at all.”

“Well, then that settles that don’t you think?” 

“I’m not sure love’s that simple Jack.” 

“I’m quite sure it isn’t,” he replies. “But choosing to commit to this life with you? That’s simple for me Phryne. And it’s okay if it’s not easy for you to do the same.”

“It’s easier than I expected it to be Jack Robinson,” she tells him honestly, seriously. “It’s the subtle fear of it ending that’s so disconcerting.” 

“I’m not going anywhere Phryne Fisher,” he responds gently. His word is all her can give her; the rest is down to trust.

“Okay,” she accepts with a soft nod before rolling herself into his arms, one arm slung over his chest once more as it to keep him in place. 

He presses a kiss to her hair and she sighs sleepily, murmuring, “I’m going to want you in a very specific way tomorrow Inspector.” 

He smiles and falls asleep with her.


End file.
